New Frontiers

Please note: This story is a continuous, multi-chapter narrative. You can find the correct order in the right sidebar. All texts were originally written in German and translated into English using AI. I asked the AI to preserve the original stylistic flair wherever possible.   The day was slipping into evening. Ebram and Hollwart had searched a stretch of the road together – hoping to find the missing crate. Perhaps it had fallen off the truck bed when the vehicles sped back toward camp. But they found nothing. And the crate could have landed anywhere along the entire route, which would’ve been too much effort for one day. Both were convinced it would turn up eventually. Even though they didn’t say it aloud, a strange feeling lingered between them. They couldn’t name it, but they read it in each other’s eyes. When they parted to return to their tents, they both paused for a moment, as if something still needed to be said. But they remained silent, nodded once more – and each walked away.   Inside his tent, Ebram dropped onto one of the two stools, leaned his elbows on the table, and buried his hands in his hair. His mind was spinning. There had to be an explanation for everything. Logically, almost every piece could be explained on its own: the battered trucks might be the result of reckless driving, maybe even speeding. The missing crate could’ve simply slipped off. The shock of the four men – perhaps an accident? Had they hit something? An animal? A person?   His thoughts ran through multiple versions of what might have happened, but the sheer terror and vacant stares of the four men wouldn’t let him go.   With a sigh, he undressed down to his undershirt and shorts, slipped into his favorite pajamas, and lay down in the hammock. He knew he needed distance, needed sleep. Tomorrow he could think again. But sleep wouldn’t come. Restless, he tossed and turned, drifted off briefly, only to wake again minutes later. Not until morning, when the light returned, did he finally fall into a merciful sleep.     When he awoke, midday had already passed. Someone had placed breakfast on his table, but his appetite vanished the moment he saw flies crawling over it. He didn’t even want to check whether they’d laid eggs on the ham, and his face twisted in disgust at the thought. With the plate in hand, he stepped outside and waved over one of the assistants.   “Throw this away.”   The assistant looked at the food, now freed from flies thanks to the short walk, and smiled.   “You really don’t want it?” He took the plate.   Ebram shook his head. “No, I’ll grab something from lunch. There’s probably still some left, right?”   “Certainly!” the young man replied, popping the ham into his mouth.   In the large tent where the workers ate together, the air still hung heavy with the scent of lunch. It smelled of cabbage and pot roast. Ebram made his way to the improvised kitchen at the far end and saw they were still busy washing and cleaning. Luckily, the vegetable pot hadn’t been emptied yet, and with a quick glance inside, he confirmed there was plenty left to fill him up. On a tin tray lay slices of roast in dark gravy. He grabbed a freshly washed plate and piled on several slices of meat and vegetables. He was just searching for cutlery when it was suddenly held out right in front of him.   Startled, he looked up.   Large hazel eyes framed by long lashes, a pretty straight nose, and unmistakably feminine lips completed the slightly annoyed-looking face staring back at him.   “If you show up late, Dr. Rolfo, you’ll have to wash the dirty dishes yourself.”   Ebram’s mouth fell open – a woman!   “You can close your mouth again. I’m not going to feed you. You’re old enough to handle knife and fork on your own,” she said, now visibly amused.   With a not-so-subtle sound, Ebram shut his mouth and accepted the cutlery.   “Thank you, but… why are you here?”     The young woman’s name was Abby – technically Abigail – but she introduced herself simply as Abby. When Ebram asked for her surname, she made a vague gesture that could have meant anything: from “irrelevant” to “I forgot.” She sat down beside him while he ate and watched him. Ebram was rather taken aback by the young woman’s forwardness.   “Forgive me, Abby, but why are you sitting here watching me eat?” he finally decided to ask.   “Well, I know reactions like yours. Most men start lecturing me, insisting that an expedition is no place for a delicate creature like a woman. Then come the suggestions to send me home or contact my family so someone can pick me up and take me back safely. I’m simply getting ahead of that by speaking plainly – if you’re interested – and by telling you right now that I will not be leaving this expedition, no matter what you think is appropriate.”   Her face radiated determination.   Ebram set his cutlery aside, studied her again, cleared his throat to find the right words, and replied rather coolly:   “Well then, dear Abby, since you’ve now made your position clear, I suppose I have no choice but to accept it. You’re not exactly leaving me any alternatives.”   She stood and nodded to him. “Correct. I was told you don’t tolerate women on your expeditions. You’re more reasonable than I expected – that’s refreshing.”   Ebram rose as well. “This has nothing to do with reasonableness. If I find that you’re a liability, I’ll take appropriate action. However, you’re not a full expedition member – you’re support staff. That’s different. That I can accept.”   He had the distinct feeling he’d said something wrong, as Abby turned without a word, snorted, and returned to the kitchen area. Ebram sat back down and finished his meal. He placed the cutlery neatly on the used napkin. That he was supposed to wash the dishes himself had already slipped his mind – his thoughts were elsewhere.     After freshening up, he went to find Hollwart, who was standing by one of the three trucks, peering into the cabin through the open driver’s door.   “Have you discovered anything new, Mr. Hollwart?”   The foreman had likely noticed him approaching and replied without turning around: “No, nothing new. Though I’m fairly certain no animal or person was involved in the damage. I only found wood splinters, soil, and pine needles.”   Now he did turn. “However, I found a root in the engine compartment of this truck.”   Ebram furrowed his brow. “A root?”   Hollwart nodded and walked to the hood. With a click, it popped open slightly, then he lifted it with a loud metallic creak and secured it.   Ebram stared into the engine bay and drew a quiet breath. “How is that possible?”   He leaned in to examine the root, which had wrapped itself around the engine block and extended tendrils toward the brake fluid, oil tank, and transmission rod.   “I have no idea. I’m no expert on plants, but judging by the thickness of these strands, it must’ve been growing here for weeks. But the trucks are thoroughly inspected before every trip.” He pointed to the root. “And this… would’ve been noticed.”   Ebram touched the root cautiously, half expecting it to twitch and grab him – but nothing happened.   “Is it possible this truck was overlooked?”   “In theory, yes. But the other two trucks also have roots – not in the engine, but in the cabin.”   After closing the hood, the two men walked to one of the other trucks and examined the driver’s cabin. Here too, roots covered the footwell, snaking up the seats, even piercing the upholstery in places.   “Say what you will, Dr. Rolfo, but something’s wrong with this forest. I’m certainly not superstitious, but this…” – he lifted a thin root – “…this is unnatural. I can’t explain it.”   He leaned a little closer to Ebram. “The workers are getting uneasy. Too many strange occurrences. This morning at breakfast, the mood was grim. Just a few are talking about a curse – that the forest is retaliating for the clearing and so on. But that kind of talk spreads fast.”   Ebram narrowed his eyes and asked, slightly irritated but entirely logical in his mind: “Did you send those individuals home and request replacements?”   Hollwart’s expression and posture shifted instantly to defensive and resolute. He slammed the driver’s door shut and planted his feet wide, hands on hips in a defiant stance.   “No, I didn’t. Workers don’t grow on trees. I spoke to each one personally and made it clear they’re to keep such talk to themselves from now on.”   Ebram noted the body language but didn’t much care. He raised a finger in a lecturing tone.   “If you think that’s enough… I’ve studied history. I know what rumors and inflammatory talk can do. History is full of it: mutiny, revolution, witch hunts – all of it started small. Believe me, this is not to be taken lightly.”   “I am taking it seriously. But I’m not the kind of man who fires a worker over a first-time offense – and this isn’t even an offense.”   Hollwart now crossed his arms.   “I understand, Mr. Hollwart. You know your workers better than I do and are surely doing what’s right. I didn’t mean to overstep – please accept my apology,” Ebram relented. He liked Hollwart and wanted to trust him.   The tension eased a little, and Hollwart offered a conciliatory smile. “I understand your concerns and I’ll keep them in mind, Dr. Rolfo.”   Ebram smiled in return, relieved. “Good, then that’s settled. Please remove the roots yourself before more rumors take hold.”   “I was planning to anyway.”     In the afternoon, Ebram gathered his assistants and porters to continue searching the area, hoping to suggest a sense of normalcy. Yet the recent events still weighed on him, and he found himself looking at the forest with new eyes. By day, it seemed ordinary – darker than most forests, but not gloomy, more like a constant twilight. In the mornings and evenings, ground fog often crept in, lending the place an eerie quality. The mist swallowed or muffled the sound of footsteps, which had already led to a few amusing moments when someone got startled. Larger animals – apart from insects and tiny invertebrates – were almost never seen, giving the forest an air of hostility or lifelessness. At night, which fell rather early, the forest grew silent and truly dark. It seemed to swallow light – and many sounds as well.   As expected, the search yielded nothing of note, and when the mist began to rise, they returned to camp. Ebram let his gaze wander across the site and noted the subdued mood. He dismissed his assistants for the evening and returned to his tent to change for dinner. He would have liked to dine privately with the foreman, but after their earlier conversation, he suspected Hollwart would decline. So he instructed one of his aides to bring him dinner and opened his notebook. Time to commit the events to paper. The meal, once delivered, he ate absentmindedly.   After summarizing everything and jotting down his personal thoughts, he stowed the book back in the trunk. He wanted to take a walk and observe the forest – purely objectively, of course. As he stepped out of the tent, he spotted Hollwart standing at the edge of camp, gazing down the clearing. Ebram joined him and looked at him from the side.   “Mr. Hollwart, you seem to have similar trains of thought to mine.”   Hollwart turned and gave a crooked smile. “Good evening, Dr. Rolfo. Is that so? What brings you out here?”   Ebram sighed deeply and let his gaze sweep from right to left across the forest.   “Well, this forest truly is strange. I wanted to get a sense of it – as neutral as possible.”   “You mean: as unburdened as one can still manage,” Hollwart clarified.   “Yes, that’s a more accurate way to put it,” Ebram agreed. “And you? What brings you here?”   Hollwart’s eyes fixed on the distance. “The truck… it still hasn’t returned.”   Ebram followed his gaze. “Let’s wait until tomorrow before we take any action.”   With a sigh, Hollwart turned away. “Yes, there’s nothing more we can do today. Good night, Dr. Rolfo.”   “Good night, Mr. Hollwart.”     The truck still hadn’t returned the next day, and by midday, Ebram decided to get to the bottom of it. He marched to Hollwart’s tent and stepped inside without knocking. The foreman was just putting on a jacket and turned toward the entrance as Ebram entered. Only then did Ebram realize how rude he’d been and took a step back.   “Forgive me, I… hmm.” He raised his hands as if to grasp something – an explanation – then let them fall, along with his shoulders. “…That was inexcusable. I don’t know what I was thinking. Please accept my apology.”   Hollwart chuckled, amused. “It’s fine. You didn’t catch me in a compromising situation. What brings you here?”   Ebram gestured outside. “The truck still hasn’t come back, and I wanted to ask if we should go looking for it.”   By now, Hollwart had buttoned his jacket and turned fully toward Ebram. “That’s exactly what I was about to do. Would you like to join me?”   Ebram didn’t want to admit it, but he’d hoped to be asked. He wanted to see things for himself, not rely on secondhand accounts. The obvious move would be to notify the police and have the drivers questioned. That could lead to the expedition being shut down – something he wanted to avoid. And beneath it all, a quiet suspicion stirred that something else might have happened. But he pushed that thought away.   “Yes, I’d like that. Should we take a truck?”   Hollwart shook his head. “No, we’ll take my small off-road vehicle. It’s much faster, so we can make it to the city and back if we keep a good pace.”   He flipped back the tent flap and motioned for Ebram to go ahead. Together they walked to Hollwart’s rugged vehicle and climbed in. Ebram gripped the handle above the door as Hollwart started the engine.   “Did you notify anyone?”   “Yes, I did. And I mentioned that you’d likely be coming with me.” He glanced at Ebram – almost with a mischievous grin.   The doctor felt compelled to look out the window so Hollwart couldn’t read his expression – he was surprised, and quietly pleased.     Hollwart steered the off-roader toward the clearing and accelerated. Ebram’s hand clenched around the handle, startled by the speed at which the vehicle tore down the freshly carved road. He dared a glance at Hollwart, who sat casually in his seat, eyes on the path ahead. Slowly relaxing, Ebram turned his gaze forward. The first kilometer and a half passed uneventfully. He saw no sign of the missing crate lying anywhere along the road.   Then Hollwart slowed the vehicle – quickly, but not abruptly – down to walking speed and stared ahead with intensity.   “What is it?” Ebram asked, following his gaze. At first, he saw nothing – just trees, as before. Then he froze. The road ended roughly 300 meters ahead in a wall of trees.   Hollwart voiced what Ebram was thinking: “What the hell is going on?”   The vehicle crawled toward the tree wall, which loomed ominously, almost provocatively, blocking the path. Even the off-roader wouldn’t make it through – let alone a truck. Fifty meters from the wall, they stopped and got out. Slowly, they approached the unnatural end of the road.   “How is this possible?” Ebram asked into the silence, not expecting an answer.   “I have no idea!” Hollwart replied in the same stunned tone.   Suddenly, Hollwart grabbed Ebram’s upper arm. “Doctor, over there!”   He pointed diagonally left between the trees, and Ebram saw what he meant: the truck.   Both stared at the scene of horror before them. The vehicle was suspended among the branches of several trees, some of which had grown through the truck itself. The windshield had been torn out and now hung from another branch. The driver’s door stood open, and Tomasch’s lifeless body dangled upside down. A branch had pierced his chest. Its end jutted upward like a dagger, stained reddish-brown.